Midway Atoll

The site of the battle that turned the tide in favor of U.S. forces in the Pacific 60 years ago, Midway Atoll today is a national wildlife refuge. Background: The United States took formal possession of Midway in 1867. The laying of the transpacific cable, which passed through the islands, brought the first residents in 1903. After the Battle of Midway on June 4-6, 1942, the islands served as a naval station until 1993.

The gig: Since taking the job as UC San Diego's first director of strategic energy initiatives in September 2008, Byron Washom has worked to turn the 1,200-acre campus into a model of sustainability, a "living laboratory." Projects include renewable energy, energy management, greenhouse-gas reduction, energy storage systems and greening the campus transportation fleet. The university generates 80% of its own electricity. "The only thing we're looking at, at the campus, are quantum improvements," he said.

Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge, site of the infamous World War II battle but more recently a gem of a destination for fishermen, divers and eco-tourists, is no longer accessible to the public. Midway Phoenix Corp., which has managed the airport and tourism services since the remote atoll went public in 1996, said this week that it has decided to end what it calls an "unacceptable" relationship with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and cancel its contract with Aloha Airlines.

THE first time I traveled to Midway Atoll was 1996, a year before the U.S. Naval Air Facility closed. I was strapped into a tail-facing seat in the windowless belly of an Air Force cargo plane. That blind descent in a backward position, after a long flight northwest from Honolulu into a part of the Pacific typically painted empty blue on maps, was my first experience of what I came to call "Midway syndrome."

Tours to Midway Atoll, the former World War II battle site in the Pacific that was opened to eco-tourists, divers, anglers and other visitors in 1996, were suspended after the company that managed the tourist services pulled out. Commercial flights ended in January; charter flights this month have been returning staff home. Georgia-based Midway Phoenix Corp., which managed the site, cited an "unacceptable" relationship with the U.S.

The gig: Since taking the job as UC San Diego's first director of strategic energy initiatives in September 2008, Byron Washom has worked to turn the 1,200-acre campus into a model of sustainability, a "living laboratory." Projects include renewable energy, energy management, greenhouse-gas reduction, energy storage systems and greening the campus transportation fleet. The university generates 80% of its own electricity. "The only thing we're looking at, at the campus, are quantum improvements," he said.

You travel all the way to Midway to escape the rat race, only to find that Midway has been trying to do the same thing for years. Its new caretakers, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, finally succeeded earlier this summer, killing the last rat and ending decades of vermin infestation that wreaked havoc on this remote, mid-Pacific Ocean atoll's incredible seabird population. * You pick up all sorts of interesting tidbits during a seven-day stay here.

Two tiny Pacific atolls that are writ large in military history--Midway and Bikini--were opened to tourists this year for the first time, and several California tour companies now run tours to both. Midway Atoll, site of the crucial World War II Battle of the Midway, was ceded by the Navy to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in October. Private tour companies offer naturalist/history, sportfishing and diving trips to the site, about 1,200 miles northwest of Hawaii.

The summer sun is beaming gloriously down on this remote speck of Pacific Ocean paradise--and there are chicks everywhere. They're under every tree, atop every dune, in every field and on every trail. The more you check them out, the more you want to pick them up . . . and toss them off the island because it really is time for them to go. They are albatross chicks, the latest crop of gooney birds, and the goofiest bunch of gooneys you ever saw.

Isolated Midway Atoll, site of a key World War II battle and now a nursery for monk seals and countless seabirds, will open to tourism next month for the first time in 50 years. The move is the boldest public-private partnership ever undertaken by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, which manages the national refuge 1,250 miles northwest of Honolulu. Rather than abandon Midway when the Navy pulls out next June, the cash-strapped wildlife service hooked up with a private company.

The albatross chick jumped to its feet, eyes alert and focused. At 5 months, it stood 18 inches tall and was fully feathered except for the fuzz that fringed its head. All attitude, the chick straightened up and clacked its beak at a visitor, then rocked back and dangled webbed feet in the air to cool them in the afternoon breeze. The next afternoon, the chick ignored passersby. The bird was flopped on its belly, its legs splayed awkwardly. Its wings drooped in the hot sun.

No one seems to know exactly who came up with the name or when it first was used, but they all seem to agree that it fits: gooney. As in gooney bird. More precisely, the Laysan albatross--about 1 million of which call Midway Atoll home. "I suppose that [terminology] was during the military days," said Tim Bodeen, the national wildlife refuge manager at Midway. "I suppose they were kind of gooney." Like thousands of little statues, they dot every acre of the landscape and transport visitors smack into what seems like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds."

The site of the battle that turned the tide in favor of U.S. forces in the Pacific 60 years ago, Midway Atoll today is a national wildlife refuge. Background: The United States took formal possession of Midway in 1867. The laying of the transpacific cable, which passed through the islands, brought the first residents in 1903. After the Battle of Midway on June 4-6, 1942, the islands served as a naval station until 1993.

Tours to Midway Atoll, the former World War II battle site in the Pacific that was opened to eco-tourists, divers, anglers and other visitors in 1996, were suspended after the company that managed the tourist services pulled out. Commercial flights ended in January; charter flights this month have been returning staff home. Georgia-based Midway Phoenix Corp., which managed the site, cited an "unacceptable" relationship with the U.S.

Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge, site of the infamous World War II battle but more recently a gem of a destination for fishermen, divers and eco-tourists, is no longer accessible to the public. Midway Phoenix Corp., which has managed the airport and tourism services since the remote atoll went public in 1996, said this week that it has decided to end what it calls an "unacceptable" relationship with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and cancel its contract with Aloha Airlines.

You travel all the way to Midway to escape the rat race, only to find that Midway has been trying to do the same thing for years. Its new caretakers, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, finally succeeded earlier this summer, killing the last rat and ending decades of vermin infestation that wreaked havoc on this remote, mid-Pacific Ocean atoll's incredible seabird population. * You pick up all sorts of interesting tidbits during a seven-day stay here.

THE first time I traveled to Midway Atoll was 1996, a year before the U.S. Naval Air Facility closed. I was strapped into a tail-facing seat in the windowless belly of an Air Force cargo plane. That blind descent in a backward position, after a long flight northwest from Honolulu into a part of the Pacific typically painted empty blue on maps, was my first experience of what I came to call "Midway syndrome."

There's no mistaking the dark, almost ghostlike figure looming off the stern, casting an ominous shadow in the sandy shallows of Midway's emerald lagoon. The water is only eight feet deep. The shark, a tiger measuring about 10 feet, is sweeping a wide area, keeping its distance but obviously interested and easily discernible in water as clear as a backyard swimming pool. Still, it takes a keen eye to spot the mysterious creatures swimming with the shark. Capt.

There's no mistaking the dark, almost ghostlike figure looming off the stern, casting an ominous shadow in the sandy shallows of Midway's emerald lagoon. The water is only eight feet deep. The shark, a tiger measuring about 10 feet, is sweeping a wide area, keeping its distance but obviously interested and easily discernible in water as clear as a backyard swimming pool. Still, it takes a keen eye to spot the mysterious creatures swimming with the shark. Capt.

The summer sun is beaming gloriously down on this remote speck of Pacific Ocean paradise--and there are chicks everywhere. They're under every tree, atop every dune, in every field and on every trail. The more you check them out, the more you want to pick them up . . . and toss them off the island because it really is time for them to go. They are albatross chicks, the latest crop of gooney birds, and the goofiest bunch of gooneys you ever saw.